False Accusations
by Lairelosse
Summary: Neal walks into a man on the street while conversing with Peter. The man proceeds to accuse Neal of stealing something from him. Neal claims innocence, but Peter is disinclined to believe him. Is Neal telling the truth? One-shot.


_A/N: This is for purplephantasms, who always asks me to write stories (even though I can't for the life of me figure out why she wants to read them). Enjoy!_

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><p><strong>False Accusations<strong>

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><p>It was a fine Wednesday morning, and Peter and Neal were slowly wending their way to the FBI office through the busy streets of New York. As they walked, they kept up a conversation about a case that they had just solved, thanks to Neal's ingenuity.<p>

"That was a good idea that you had there, Neal."

Neal stared at Peter in surprise. "Thank you." Neal rarely received compliments from Peter.

"What made you think of it? Have you ever pulled off a sting like that in the past?" Peter probed, digging for more information about Neal's life before he was apprehended.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Neal teased Peter. There were a multitude of things that Peter was completely ignorant of when it came to Neal's past, and Neal fully intended to keep things that way.

"Come on, Neal, just say 'yes' or 'no'," cajoled Peter.

"No comment."

"You _have_ done it before, haven't you?"

Neal swivelled around to grin at Peter. "I'm not saying any—"

Neal was cut short as he collided with a well-dressed man who was evidently in a hurry. "Hey! Watch where you're going!" the man shouted as all his belongings fell to the pavement. Neal apologized profusely as he bent down to assist the man in recovering his possessions.

"I'm really sorry. Here you go," said Neal contritely, as he handed over a few sheets of paper and some pens. "That's your fault for distracting me, Peter."

"Me? Distracting you?" inquired an offended Peter, as they continued on their way. "How did I distract you?"

Before Neal could come up with a witty retort, they heard an enraged bellow from the man whom they had just parted with.

"Hey! You! Thief! Give it back!" yelled the man, stabbing a finger in Neal's direction.

"Neal, what did you do?" asked Peter warily.

"I didn't do anything," protested Neal.

"Yes, you did! You stole my key card!"

"I have no idea what key card you're talking about. Why would I steal it from you?"

"Give it back, you—"

"Hey, hey, calm down," Peter interrupted, holding back the man who was prepared to tackle Neal and wrestle the key card from him by sheer force. "Let's take this someplace quieter, okay?"

"No!" exploded the man. "I'm late for work and I need my key card!"

"Okay. Neal, give the man his key card."

"I'm telling you, Peter: I don't have it."

Peter observed Neal's facial expressions to discern whether he was speaking the truth. Neal's assertion seemed credible, but then again, he lied for a living.

"Of course he has it," the impatient man accused Neal.

"Then prove it!" Neal replied defiantly.

Before the man attempted to lunge at Neal again, Peter quickly asked: "Where do you work, Mr—"

"Sean Lastor. I work in a bank, and if I don't get that key card, I'm going to lodge a police report," threatened Lastor.

"That won't be necessary." Peter waved a hand dismissively. "I'm sure that my partner will return your key card to you. Neal, don't make me repeat myself."

"Peter, I really don't know what key card he's talking about. I don't even know this guy; what would I want to do with his key card?"

Peter narrowed his eyes at Neal and placed his hands on his hips. "You're not exactly famous for your honesty, Neal. How would I know if you're telling me the truth?"

"You can search me, okay? I guarantee you that you won't find a key card on me."

"I don't believe you," Lastor cut in rudely.

"Why don't we go the FBI office?" suggested Peter. "We can get agents to search him there."

"But I'm already late for work," complained Lastor.

"Then you should give your employer a call, and tell him that you have been delayed by unforeseen circumstances."

"But—"

"Look, do you want your key card or not?" queried Peter sharply, as he rapidly lost patience with Lastor and his incessant grumblings.

Lastor subsided, and the three of them walked on in silence. As they trudged on, Peter noticed that Neal was scrutinising his surroundings. Neal was on the lookout for any of his criminal associates who might have been the perpetrator of this crime.

Suddenly, Neal broke the silence. "Peter, I know who stole his key card."

"Neal, now's not the time to play games."

"I'm not, Peter. Check out the person sitting at the leftmost table in that café."

After darting a warning glance at Neal, Peter turned and looked in the direction in which Neal's finger was pointing. He was taken aback. "Is that… Alex Hunter?"

Neal replied in the affirmative as Lastor began muttering about being late again.

"We're going to have a little chat with her. Mr Lastor, I believe we've found the thief."

Alex smiled at the trio as they entered the café. "Nice to see you again, Neal. Hello, Peter."

"Alex, give Mr Lastor his key card," said Peter abruptly.

"What makes you think that I have it?" she asked coyly.

"Give it to him, Alex."

"Okay," she surrendered, as she took the key card out of her bag.

Lastor glared at her, grabbed the key card, and hurried back in the direction from whence they had come without a word of thanks or apology to Peter and Neal.

"Charming fellow," Alex remarked sarcastically.

"You're fortunate he's not pressing charges," Peter told her disapprovingly. "Why did you steal it?"

"I needed to get your attention," was her response. "And what better way to do it than to commit a crime and pin the blame on Neal Caffrey?"

"Alex!" exclaimed Neal in shock.

"Haven't you heard of phones?" Peter inquired sensibly.

"Where's the fun in that?" counter-questioned Alex, as she gestured to them to sit down.


End file.
